


Dove si accettano le ansie (e diventano cure)

by Akira14



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:57:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 9,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16926042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira14/pseuds/Akira14
Summary: Basically another collection of the ficlets I wrote on Tumblr.Title from Ultimo's song (Pianeti), the ultimate Nicotino song <3Chapter 1 - Giovanni noticed Elia's hesitation, when Martino came out to him and Luca...Chapter 2 - Niccolò has to deal with the rumors his classmate, Marco Covitti, is spreading as wellChapter 3 -  How Marti was feeling at home, after he came out to his friendsChapter 4 - Maddalena's POV after the break upChapter 5 - Luca's POV during 8.1 clipChapter 6 - Marti and Nico take a day trip to the beachChapter 7 - An attempt of Nicotino smut that ended up being very sappy (sensory deprivation kink)Chapter 8 - Maddelena POV during the call (written BEFORE 9.1 came out)Chapter 9  - Martino's night after 8.5 clipChapter 10 - Niccolo's POV during 9.1Chapter 11 - Marti's mom and Nico bonding over lessons of "martinese"Chapter 12 - Gio's POV from Monday 10th Dec.Chapter 13 - Nicotino + Boysquad @ the beachChapter 14 - Drabbles from 14-15th Dec.Chapter 15 - Martino gets a proper welcome from Ni's parentsChapter 16 - A bit of bondage ;)Chapter 17 - New Year's Blues (Nico's POV)





	1. I know

He knows his friends like the back of his hands.   
That doesn’t mean that he’s a mind reader or anything like that: it’s not like he was fully aware of what was going on with Martino. Nonetheless, he had sensed that something wasn’t quite right with his best friend... just as he had noticed that Elia wasn’t quite himself, after their talk at recess.

Waiting and beating around the bush was a strategy that could work with Marti, in the long run, but with Elia it was better to address the issue straight away and be done with it.

Martino was busy at Radio Osvaldo and Luchino was engaged in a awful attempt to chat Emma up, which gave him the opportunity to speak to Elia as soon as they were out of class.

Was he thinking back to all the times he made some poor homophobic joke?  
Was he regretting trying to impose heteronormative bullshit on Martino?  
Was he wishing he go back in time and take back the hurtful words he said at Covitti’s party?

The answer was yes to probably all of those, but it was useless to follow that train of thought .   
It wouldn’t serve any purpose to wonder why Martino felt like they would freak out when told that he fancies boys.

Unexpectedly, it’s Elia who speaks first.

“Can you believe it was _really_ about the ear phones guy? Like, I thought I was just reading too much into that awkwardness... That I hadn’t really seen them checking each other out!” Elia huffs, rolling his eyes. 

He thinks back to that afternoon, in the gym, where they had shared a long look over Martino’s shoulder.  
They _both_ had known about it from that very moment, then.

“Is this what’s bothering you, zi’?” He isn’t too sold on that.

“Well, yeah! I hate when I don’t trust my gut and then it turns out that it was right all along. It’s like, you know... When you are 99% sure that right answer is A but you talk yourself into choosing D?”

“Is that all?” Giovanni asks, with the barest hint of disbelief.

“No, okay. I feel like I’ve let him down. Like I should have reached out to him earlier, but I let my pride get in the way... You know?” His shoulders are hunched, his eyes are sad and his voice sound a bit broken and unsure. It’s hard to believe this the same Elia Santini that hits on every pretty girl he sees. Gio, however, knows that under that fuckboi attitude lies a heart of gold and the most loyal of friends.  
One that breaks when he sees people he loves hurting.

“I know, but you gotta stop beating yourself up about it, bro. Now, let me tell you what I’ve got planned for this weekend...”  



	2. Rumor has it

_‘Haven’t you heard? Rumor has it that the readhead from IVB dumped Marco’s sister for Fares. No, I’m not talking about Brighi. Rametta. Yeah. A guy. Can you believe?’_

No. You can’t. You can’t believe. You can’t even think. You can barely breathe.

You didn’t move to another school to have people talking behind your back again.

Or to have them pretending to feel sorry for you. How come a lady killer like you has been caught up in such a godawful rumor, anyway? 

_‘What a loser. Must be weird having someone do that for you when you aren’t even interested, right, Nico?’_

Yeah. Right. You want to stand up and tell them to shut up, because they don’t know a damn thing about you and Martino. You want to tell them that you can’t be dumped by someone you weren’t with in the first place.

You don’t, because your mouth doesn’t want to cooperate. 

You can’t, because you’re too busy keeping the nausea at bay. 

It hurts, and you feel so cold, but you’re sweating.

You try to tune out all of the noise, to focus on the essay you are supposed to hand in tomorrow - you were supposed to wake up at 5am tomorrow and write it then; whatever - but the pen keeps slipping out of damp hand.

Being unable to stop your leg from bouncing up and down doesn’t do any wonders to your handwriting either.

_‘Dude, who would even drop that hottie for Rametta? I mean, I’m not saying your sister is a liar, but...’_

That’s right, they all saw you with Maddalena that night. So there’s no reason for them to believe Emma, who could have come to that conclusion on her own from the Halloween party you ditched to be with Martino... Unless she’s got a reliable source. 

Who can be only Maddalena herself.

The one you thought you could trust, the one you could forgive for hurting you in retaliation... but not for hurting Martino. You couldn’t forgive yourself for that, let alone someone else.

_‘Bro, don’t ask me... No one in their right mind would, I know.’_

It’s all so tiresome. You can’t even start to imagine how awful it must be for Marti, who tried to hide even from his closest friends.

Is there anything you could do, to be forgiven for being so reckless and so selfish?

Fuck... Why can’t it just be you and Martino, alone, as the last men on Earth?

You need to start working on the antidote: screw everything and everyone else.


	3. Elated

Elated. Not as happy as he had been the morning he woke to a sleepy and affectionate Niccolò but… Pretty close to that, yeah.

Panicking over the amount of stuff he missed when he stayed home for a week?   
Being disappointed that his mom is nowhere to be seen - probably still at school, busy with yet another endless council - and the fridge is empty?

Not allowed. Not tonight.  
Tonight he wants to gorge on all the food he hasn’t eaten in weeks. Take out will do.  
He’s going to catch up - or try to, at least - on all the sleep he deprived himself to for way too long.

Who cares if the house needs cleaning and the laundry is piling up.  
It all can wait until tomorrow.

 _‘Carpe diem.’_ Seize the day, live in this very moment. Don’t worry about what’s to come and stop wasting time mulling over what’s already passed.  
It might not be quite what Horace had in mind, perhaps, but it doesn’t matter.

Nothing but having his friends back does.  
He can’t quite believe he had ever feared they would turn his back on him.

He finds himself grinning, thinking back to Luchino’s one-track mind and his priorities.  
His heart soars, recalling the warmth of Elia’s hug.  
There had been some awkwardness, most likely due to the fact that they could have apologized to each other a week ago already, had not been the stubborn and prideful idiots they were… But it lasted, like, a couple of minutes and then it was gone for good.

Whatever happens, from now on, he knows that they are going to fight in his corner and not against him.

It feels amazing to lean on, again.  
It really does.


	4. It's not fair

It’s not fair.  
Not after everything she’s done for him, everything the two of them have been together.  
She deserved better than “I want _him,_ Maddi” and a ‘ _Get over it_ ’ that went unsaid.  
  
It’s not fair that it took him four days to come clean about what happened on Halloween, and it had hurt to hear that he had been into Martino well before then.  
  
It’s not fair that he tries to blame it all on her, to make her the villain in his story...  
Maybe she has being a bit suffocating, and controlling, but she’s not acting out of maliciousness or being selfish.  
He says that this is another attempt to manipulate him into staying, but all she’s trying to do is to protect him from himself.  
She isn’a professional in the field, for heaven’s sake.   
She is just a girl, trying to help out the boy she has loved for so long, in the only way she knows.  
  
Most of all, it’s not fair that Martino knows so little about Niccolò and yet he let that boy fall head over heels for him.  
  
It’s a shame that she doesn’t have his phone number, ‘cause otherwise she would give him some intel on her - ex? but for how long, really? until he snaps out of his delusional state, probably) - boyfriend that would most likely change his mind about wanting to date him.  
  
But life is never fair, isn’it?  
  



	5. My new best friend!

Guys, he’s got so many questions he wants to ask both Martino and Niccolò!  
Like, was the sex worth sending them on a quest for hot chicks in Trevignano - finding none, as expected, but nobody ever listens to him! - and having them sleeping on the floor?  
To Niccolò, who looks like the kind of guy who had his fair share of experiences playing on both sides of the field: is sleeping with a boy, like, ‘easier’ because you know for a fact that your lover came?  
Does it hurt? Is it quicker or slower than straight sex?   
Have they been safe? 

He’s tired of being elbowed by Gio and getting slaps on his neck from Elia, so he goes for something less personal.  
How the two of them met, what team he supports - ‘I’m sorry, I’m not really into football...’ and changes the topic to a safer one, music, which makes them all dread he could be a Lazio supporter, or even worse... a traitor of the country who roots for Juve - and how delicious the crust of pizza is when you put ketchup and mustard on it?

“Better than these croissants, for sure.” He commented, frowning a little when a took a bite of the moldy pastry. 

Can you believe he just found his culinary soulmate?

“You were the one who went for the healthy, vegan, shit. Stop making me suffer for you poor food choices.” Martino sighs, when Niccolò brings a piece of the croissant to his lips. Yet, he does eat it and Luca could swear his lips linger a little too long on Niccolò’s fingers before he moves away to spit the food on his plate. “Seriously, Ni, this tastes almost as bad as Peccio’s homemade beer. And that’s saying something.”

“That’s twice you refer to it today, and I’m still wondering.. Does it taste like sweat or like ass? Because you did say ‘ass’ at Peccio’s and now I’m confused, you know? Sweat I can understand, but how does ass actually taste, Marti?” Oops.

Giovanni and Elia freeze, like they can’t believe what they’ve just heard.  
Martino goes so red that Niccolò starts laughing softly, getting a betrayed look in return. He tries to placate their friend with a kiss, two, a dozen but Marti is having none of it.

“Fuck this shit, I’m out.” Martino stands up, pretending to be angry but ruffling Niccolò’s hair and dropping a kiss to his forehead to let him know that he’s not upset... more like totally embarassed.

Once he’s gone to freshen up, sending a  _‘Luchi’, I understand that you’re still upset about me ditching your birthday party but please, stop.’_ while he is in the toilet _,_ the mood gets a bit too serious for Luca’s liking.

Elia and Gio are being all like ‘If you hurt our friend again, we’ll come for you. We’ll make you regret you ever crossed our path’ and he can’t do much more than nod, but his new best friend doesn’t look like someone who hurts people on purpose.

Who’s fighting in his corner, aside from Marti?  
Maybe that is the question he needs to ask Niccolò.  
He saves it for another day, though.  



	6. A trip to the seaside

He knew he shouldn’t have taken Niccolò to Ostia on a stifling hot summer day.

Of course he would eventually talk Martino into lazily sunbathing on the beach, if only to have the perfect excuse to touch every bare inch of his skin and act all innocent, saying “I’m only applying sunscreen, Marti”  when Martino would eventually groan in frustration.

He is slowly working into accepting himself, yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s become reckless. It sucks that “reckless” means dropping kisses on his boyfriend’s tanned shoulders or Ni nuzzling into his neck… 

The only time he had actually felt comfortable to be openly affectionate, really, had been at Pride. He had a newfound appreciation for having a safe space in which you could be yourself without fearing for your life.

Even if the flaunting was still a bit too much for his liking, he could see why Filippo held the parade in such high regard.

He hadn’t even meant to end up here, in this hellish place full of screaming children and sand. 

When he said he wanted to go to Ostia, it was to show him that Martino could take him to some cool run down places too. To impress him with his superior skateboarding skills in the empty pool.

One could say that he failed spectacularly, given the times that he faceplanted and bruised his sides falling… But it didn’t really feel like it, having Niccolò teasing him - “I can’t believe you suck so bad…” “Do I? I should stop _sucking_ , then.” - and laughing so freely.

But then Niccolò was all “Why don’t we go to the seaside?” and he has yet to learn how to say no to this guy.

Having him so close, half naked, and not being able to touch… It’s pure torture.

It _is_  nice to go back to simpler days, enjoying a game of beach tennis and sneaking in some butt slapping - with Niccolò raising his hands, pretending he had done no such thing, how dare you imply that, and daring Martino to get back at him - while playing beach volley… But that’s only so much temptation a man can stand, before giving in.

”Should we head back?”


	7. Where are you now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on **[THIS](https://www.instagram.com/p/BqPjOqKATPn/)** photo of Rocco (by Andrea Salvini)

  
Niccolò can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, but he enthusiastically kisses Martino so he knows that he’s definitely down for what he has just suggested.

He should have expected it, now that they are getting more and more adventurous…  last time he had been on the verge of his climax for what felt like a lifetime, before being allowed to come, and that’s how they found out that Martino thrives on taking control and being begged.  
And now… Now there’s a blindfold coming out of his bag and he’s telling Niccolò how he started wondering how everything would be even more intense if one couldn’t see.

He beams, as he takes the blindfold from Martino’s hand and puts it on his own eyes.    
He hopes Marti knows how proud he is to see how playful and shameless his boyfriend is becoming when it comes to sex. Not because he wouldn’t be happy to simply lie and cuddle with him, it’s that…  It is an amazing thing to witness someone growing comfortable with his own body, his own desires, and be the recipient of their affection, isn’t it?

Martino was right, though.  
It’s more than _intense_ , it’s maddening.  
He’s left to guess where Martino is heading next from the light touches on skin, from the brush of his lips down his neck… Oh, now he fells teeth grazing against his nipple and fingers working on his hard cock.  
He can still reach out to Marti, guide him with a hand on his nape – and then he can’t resist, he has to cup his face and run his thumb on his lower lip and have his own heart miss a beat when Martino sucks on it – but it’s not enough.  
He hadn’t realized how much he relied on his sight, how crucial it was for him to be able to pin down and file for later use every little reaction he got from Marti.  
This is great, yeah, but he also feels too disconnected.  
He can't take it anymore, even though they have barely started.

“Ni?”

A kiss on his collarbone. On his jaw.  
A peck on his lips. Two. Three. One more, as Martino takes the blindfold off.

“Too much?” He asks, looking a bit alarmed that he let things go for too long and didn’t catch Niccolò discomfort straight away.  
How could he? He’s not a mind reader.

“Not enough.” Niccolò reassures him. “I just... I _need_ to see your face. _”_ His warm brown eyes, a smile so bright that it could light up a whole room.   
Each and every freckle on his body.

Martino, of course, blushes and looks down.  
Niccolò vows to shower him in compliments until he learns to take one.

“So, what’s next on your list, Elio?”  



	8. Call me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE 9.1, so it has some canon divergence.

”Maddalena?”

You knew he'd call, sooner or later. You hoped it would be under happier circumstances because, as hurt as you still are ovee the break up, you wouldn't wish this on anyone.

Having to deal with a manic Nico is hard enough when you have some basic knowledge of what he's going through, when you've been with him for so long that you can immediately spot the signs and make sure he's taking his meds and cutting on his weed and alcohol consumption. Besides, you have to admit that there hasn't been a moment you couldn't count on Anna and her husband's help as well... While Martino is utterly alone in Milan.

A city that is as foreign to him as Niccolò's illness.

"I... I don't know what has just happened." But you do, and he knows that. That's why he called. "Nico. He. I thought he was fine, but then he wasn't and I..."

It takes a while to get a coherent story out of the frantic and distraught boy - right from the start you clearly heard those sirens, which were the biggest clue about what happened, before Martino even started talking - and then he puts you on hold to talk to someone, probably a policeman or an EMT. Well, the only good thing about it happening on St. Ambrose in Milan is that he was stopped and taken care of quite soon, before he could hurt himself.

"What do I do now?" He asks you, chocking on his own tears. "I... I could have... Why am I even here? If only I said no, this morning, let's go to school, one doesn't go to Milan on a whim unless something is up, right? I should have realized he wasn't himself when he started mentioning marriage..." He is rambling now, venting without any filter because that's the only thing stopping him from having a break down.  
  
“Yes, you should have.” Your bluntness is a surprise to yourself as well, you don’t want to sound like a scorned ex-girlfriend but you’ve been taking care of Niccolò for the last three years - and you were his friend for eight  -  and you are well aware you’re on the phone with you’ve got a naive and inexperienced seventeen year boy.... but your priority is Niccolò, anything and anyone else doesn’t matter. 

  
Moreover, it’s time for him to face the truth. Obviously her boyfriend didn’t want him to know, so it’s up to her to dish out some honesty tonight. 

“But you couldn’t, because you barely know him. He lied straight to your face, and by omission as well. Did you really thought he was in love with you? Come on, he’s bipolar! He didn’t tell you, otherwise you wouldn’t be calling me. You were clearly a fixation due to his mania.” 

You bite your tongue before you say that he has been spiralling down ever since he met Martino. That he only made him worse. There’s no need to tell him that, now. It can wait until he gets back to Rome, if he tries to reach out to Niccolò ever again.  
  
“What you can do, now, is to get on the first train back home and let the adults deal with this. It’s bigger than you. You’re clearly out of your depth, and you’re aren’t helping him by staying in Milan.”  
  
He hangs up on you, and you hope he got the message.  
You have no time to worry about that, though. You have got Colino’s parents to call and the first train to Milan to catch.


	9. Where do I go from here?

They took him away.   
You had to look up where the nearest hospital could be, because there was no way Nico could chalk it as being a dare gone wrong. No matter how persuasive he could be.  
Anyone with _eyes_ \- except you, it now seems - can see that he needs _help_. The kind that policemen can’t give.

“Who are you, anyway?” 

 _‘I’m his boyfriend.’_ You wanted to say, out and proud like Niccolò had been a few hours before. Had he been out of his mind already, by then, not even realizing the words that got past his lips?

No. You **refuse** to believe it.   
He was still lucid when you made yourselves comfortable on that sofa, under the red lights. He was a bit overexcited while you were showering, but you could barely stop laughing and then chase his lips to kiss him some more as well, so it’s not like there was anything out of the ordinary there.  
It started during dinner, didn’t it? Whatever _it_ is.

Maddalena said it wasn’t something that could be talked about on the phone, without asking to Niccolò’s parents if she was even allowed to share the news with you. 

Because you are nobody.   
To Nico, who wouldn’t even stop when you called him. To those guys, who said ‘ _Sorry, only family allowed_ ’ before they closed the doors in your face.  
To this all fucking city that now you hate with a burning passion.

You couldn’t speak, because the last thing you needed was to end up in a police station where they would start asking what the hell was a seventeen year old boy doing so far away from home, at night.  
It was better to be seen as the morbidly curious passer-by and walk away.

And now you can’t stop talking, not even letting Filippo get one word in. You don’t even know if you’re making sense, as you pace up and down in the ER waiting room.  
You don’t know what’s up with Nico, you don’t know if he has even been admitted here - but spending the night in the cold wasn’t an option, and neither was going back to the flat - you don’t know why you didn’t ask him about his erratic behaviour right when you spotted it, you don’t know how long it is going to take for Maddalena and his family to show up and why the hell you picked up his clothes from the wet pavement and brought them to the hospital with you (actually the answer to this one is quite easy: they still smell like him, and breathing in his scent is the anchor between being antsy and going into full panic mode).  
You could write a book about the things you don’t know, and it would be a pretty thick one. 

You call Filippo several times during the night, unable to sit still or finding something else to do that isn’t looking up all the ‘symptoms’ you might have spotted or thinking back to the talk you had in the boys bathroom, at school.  
You kill time walking in and out of the hospital, trying again and again to get some info out of the receptionist - all to no avail - and smoking.

The sun is just about to rise when they finally kick you out, asking you to “just go home”. But you’ve got no home here, and you have no idea where to head to… not without Niccolò by your side.

There’s only one place you know how to reach.  
The place where you came from.

You cry all the way back, feeling like you utterly failed Niccolò.  



	10. It's not warm when he's away

Weird.   
He doesn’t recall falling asleep in this bed, last night. He doesn’t quite remember dozing off in the first place, let alone where, but he is pretty sure that the sheets weren’t this chafing.   
He can’t see any skyscrapers from his window and the nicely shaped stain on the ceiling isn’t there anymore. The air doesn’t smell of coffee, of whatever Martino might be cooking up for breakfast - he did ask for a brunch, brought on a tray by his lovely boyfriend for losing their bet in the shower, didn’t he? - but it’s heavy with iodoform.

Okay then: he’s in a hospital, but how did end up here?  
Last thing he vaguely remembers is snatching the phone from Marti’s hands and calling the best Japanese restaurant in town from some take-away sushi and then... Then it gets all really fuzzy.

What happened, after that?  
Is Marti okay? Did he cause him any harm with his reckless behaviour?

 _Where is Martino? Why isn’t he here?_  
  
Did Niccolò scare him off with all his madness? He should have talked to him about his disorder... but it felt so refreshing to have someone who finally saw _him_ and valued _him_ as their ‘Ni’... He didn’t want to be ‘that poor guy with BDP’ to the loveliest and cutest boy he ever met.  
So he left him completely blindsided when it happened, because that’s just brilliant, isn’t it?  
Martino, alone, in a city he doesn’t know and having to deal with something so much bigger than him.  
No wonder he ran away.

No, he didn’t. Not Marti. He has been the one reaching out to Niccolò most of the time, he would want to talk to him face to face, wouldn’t he?  
He would care enough to make sure he’s okay, even though he’s a coward and a liar and...   
  
_Where is Martino? Why isn’t he here?_  
  
It’s the paranoia creeping in, but he won’t let it win. Not today.   
  
_Where is Martino? Why isn’t he jere?_  
  
His own mum is here. His dad. Maddalena.  
But not Martino. It doesn’t make sense. He told Mum not to blame him for his slip-ups,  and his father has always been so understanding - even after all the shit that went down last year, first with his crush (which pales in comparison to what he feels for Martino, now) and then with everything that followed - and Maddalena... She must be hurt, and worried, but she’s not vindictive... is she?  
  
“Where is Martino? Why isn’t he here?”  
  
“Because I asked him to go. It’s for the best.”  She doesn’t need to say, but they’ve been together long enough that he can hear ‘ _I told him none of what you shared had been real. And he believed me, of course.’_  
  
“YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO!” He snaps, barely keeping his agressiveness in check when she doesn’t look bothered by the lies she told to his boyfriend.   
He probably looks like a small child having a tantrum, with his hands clenched and his teeth biting into his bottom lip until it bleeds.  
  
“He deserved the truth, Colino. He deserves something _real.”_ Oh, would you look at her playing the role of St. Maddalena from Novara, the magnanimous saviour of helpless and confused young men all over the world.  
  
He feels like crying, but it’s like all his sadness is stuck in his chest and can’t get out. It weights on him, like lead upon his lungs.   
There are waiting for him that he’s sorry for the outburst, but he won’t say another word.  
Why bother speaking to them, when they don’t care about what he has to say?  
  
Only Martino did, but now he’s gone and there’s no way he is ever coming back to him, not after what went down last night.

He’s never gonna feel warm again.  
  



	11. Martinese

You like Niccolò.  
Your son doesn’t need your approval and he can date whoever he likes, of course, but you’re glad he found such a gentle soul.

You tried to be wary of him, to make it clear that you wouldn’t forgive him if he ever dared to hurt Marti again, but how could you?  
You melted at the very first sight of of him, at the nervousness in his slumped shoulders and strained smile... He was already expecting you to be cold, distrustful. 

He can’t promise it won’t end in tears. He can’t swear that he will _always_  cherish your boy, making sure not to screw up and leave scars in his wake.

So you don’t ask him to. You stroke his cheek softly, instead of shaking his hand and all you say is “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

 _‘I know you’re trying your best’_ is what you really mean, but you hope he got the message when you _genuinely_ smiled back at him and asked if he’d like to binge watch some TV show with you, instead of going back to bed.

As you get to know him better - an inevitable consequence of having him over more often than not (and you make it crystal clear to Mrs Fares that Niccolò is **never** going to be a bother to you, that he will **never** be asked to leave) - you learn that he’s pretty good at that.   
At reading people, and Martino in particular, when it comes to non-verbal cues.

He’s not as fluent in spoken Martinese, though.  
You soon start trading notes, then: you teach him that ‘I don’t know’ means ‘Yes, absolutely’. ‘We’ll see’ or ‘I’ll think about it’ mean ‘No’ and that ‘not too bad’ is the highest praise one can get from your son; he tells you what to look for when Martino doesn’t talk. How his silence speaks volumes.

You bond over your lessons, which involve cooking as well - because Nico can use some of those as well, and you both love to prepare Marti’s favourite dish - and while neither of you can say that your proficiency in the language is close to Giovanni’s level... You’re getting there.

It doesn’t take long for you to grow fond of Niccolò as his own person, to see him as more than your son’s boyfriend. As the quirky, gentle and talented boy that he is.   
Surely, there’s more than you can give him than just some lesson Martino’s secret language. Love, acceptance, a safe haven in his darkest moments.

You make sure that he knows you’ve got his back as well. By encouraging him to put his head on your shoulder, talking about nothing in particular - and sometimes not even making much sense just to get those thoughts out of his head - or enjoying whatever you put on without saying a word. 

It’s not much, it’s not nearly enough, but both him and Martino appreciate your efforts... You don’t destroy everything you touch, after all, do you?

 


	12. Ma 'ndo stai?

He doesn’t think much of it, at first.   
Maybe Niccolò got tired of Martino checking his phone and hid it, so that they could enjoy their romantic getaway in Milan in peace.

Milan. Damn, if someone told him even a week ago that Marti wouldn’t have said “Are you out of your mind?” to such an impromptu proposal he would have questioned _their_ sanity.

On the other hand, if Eva came up to him and asked if he wanted to board on the next flight to Barcelona... Would he really say no to that, even though his Spanish is piss poor and he has already spent all his money on weed and beer?  
No, of course not.

He’s actually proud of his friend for being so busy that he can’t get a spare minute to open Whatsapp, and let them know that he’s still alive, that Niccolò hasn’t fucked him into oblivion.  
Perphaps, if he had done the same and prioritized Eva over the boys... No, stop there, Giovanni. There’s no point in dwelling on the past. 

It seems a bit weird that he’d miss Monday as well, with the hell week of oral and written tests that they’ve got ahead before Christmas. Niccolò isn’t at school either, however, so... They might be on their way back to Rome?

It’s Sana who catches him off guard, bluntly approaching him during recess.

“Any news from Martino?” She sounds sincerely concerned about him, which leave him quite baffled... Okay, maybe he told her he was sick again as an excuse not to show up for their radio meeting... but why? Sana knows about Niccolò, so he could have gone with the truth, right?

“What news?” He asks, sharing confused looks with Elia and Luchino. 

“Oookay, forget I even asked.” She walks away before he can stop her, and has him questioning what the hell is up with Martino now.  
Has Fares screwed up over the weekend, going back to his girlfriend once again, and left Martino too devastated to show up at school?

Giovanni curses himself for trusting that guy way too soon, for not giving him a proper shovel talk, for even daring to like him simply because he bought them breakfast and drove them home. To be honest it wasn’t just that, it was also impossible not to see how happy he made Martino simply by being there, in Bracciano, hanging out with them.

He plans to go over in the afternoon, see if Martino is at home and demand to be told if needs to go and break a certain someone’s nose as a payback for breaking his best friend’s heart... But he wants to try something else first, not feeling like pressuring Martino into telling the truth straight away.

He opens the Contrabbandieri’s group chat, and leaves a message there for Martino to see.

 **Gio:** You know we’re here for you, right? If shit went down in Milan, you can tell us.

Elia and Luca can’t leave it be, however, and have to say their own piece.

 **Elia:** Nico isn’t even in school, so you don’t need to be afraid that we’d smash his face in.   
**Luca:** Guys! Violence is never the answer.  
**Gio:** What is?  
**Elia:** Love? Don’t say love.  
**Luca:** Food? We can come over and gorge on kebabs, if you’d like?  
**Elia:** Actually that’s a pretty good idea, coming from you, Luchino. Let’s forget about... what’s his name again?

Martino won’t reply, won’t acknowledge that he has got plenty of people to lean on... but it worth giving it a try, isn’t it?

 _‘Thanks, guys, but I really don’t feel like seeing anyone today.’_  
_'I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow at recess, it’s not something I can write about.’_

Well, isn’t that progress?  
Waiting until tomorrow sucks, but they are all aware that Martino trusts them not to show up - even if it’d be the most logical course of action - if he asks them not to. 

He better dish out the truth - all the truth, nothing but the truth - when they will see him again.  
Or he’s gonna get it from Niccolò, and it won’t be pretty.


	13. Too hot (hot damn!)

Martino has learnt his lesson, by now:  never fall asleep in Niccolò's car again.  
Especially if there are Giovanni, Elia and Luchino in the backseat.

Of course he will be persuaded to drive them somewhere they can find plently of hot chicks in skimpy bikinis. It's been nearly seven months and he still feels like he's got something to prove, like he can't quite believe Marti's friends could really grow fond of him.

Usually they don't take advantage of it, arguing when he tries to pay the bill for everyone, but if Martino is not paying attention... then they do try to give some 'innocent' and 'well meant' suggestion of they would like to go, if only they had a car...Well, hopefully they will regret it once they realize they all pale in comparison to Niccolò.

He can already hear them mumble something about how nobody should allow 'that guy' to go around shirtless, and Luca asking how can he get the same figure. Because, come on, it can't be all down to genetics, can it?  
Isn't there some fairness, in this world?

******************

"I can't believe it."  
"You know what's illegal? That."  
"Marti, you gotta do something about it, man."

Yeah, right. Like what?  
Grab a T-shirt and force Niccolò to put it on, so that the girls would stop ogling at him and maybe start paying attention to someone else?

They've been teasing Martino about his alleged 'thirst' ever since they got on the beach and Ni has decided it would be nice to bless everyone with a glorious view of his magnificent collarbone, his well-defined pecs and abs.

It only got worse after they went for a swim, and Martino found himself unable to tear his gaze away from the water drops running down Nico's hips, or the ones pooling at his thighs...

"Marti, my eyes are up here."  Niccolò whispered, gently stroking his skin and then leaning in for a kiss. It's just a peck, but it still leaves Martino breathless and dazed.  
No wonder his friends are grinning at his lovestruck face and being so fucking obnoxious as they wax poetics about Niccolò's beauty because they feel they have to voice Martino's thoughts.

It's Nico himself who is having none of this raving about his good looks, putting an end to it when they walk to the nearest bar.  
There aren't enough chairs at the table, so he grabs Martino's waist before he can go looking for another one and makes him sit on his lap. Not even Luchino misses the sighs all around them, or the whispered _'Damn, all the good ones are either taken, gay... or both.'_

"Come on guys." He says, sounding actually annoyed. No wiggling of his eyebrows, no trace of a smile. Have they taken it too far?

"You make it sound like you haven't noticed all those people checking MY BOYFRIEND out..." Oh, so he is indeed upset. But not with the boys, not really.

 "Not that I can blame them. Martino is **that** gorgeous. And hot. Not to mention adorable, when he gets all flustered because he can't take a compliment." He flicks his nose,  when Martino turns to slap his shoulder, turning the boys groans into roaring laughter.

“I'm seriously questioning their taste in men... I mean, you two are cute and all, but... I am me, and I am available." Elia laments, not too keen on hitting on this girls now that they have showed their true colors.

Being disappointed because a hot guy is taken is understandable, but turning their heads in disgust or walking away?  
Looking far too interested, as if Martino and Niccolò are there to satisfy their voyeuristic inclinations?  
No, he's having none of that bullshit.

Sharing a look with Giovanni, it seems that he is on the same page.

"Not for long, if Martino has his way."  He probably wasn't supposed to give that information away, judging from way Marti just elbowed him painfully into his ribs.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You'll see."

"Haven't you got someone for us too, Marti?"  Luca immediately asks, pointing at him and Giovanni.

"As a matter of fact... I do."  He looks smug, the bastard. As though he is a seasoned matchmaker that can find their true soulmate with a snap of his fingers.

Well, he might when it comes to Giovanni and Luchino but... No way he's gonna find anyone who could meet Elia's standards.  
No way.  



	14. Snapshots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three drabbles from last Friday's night and Saturday morning.

Martino doesn’t want to see him this sad ever again. Not if he can’t help it.   
Deep in his heart he is aware that he won’t be always able to make him feel better, but he hopes that from now on Niccolò will know that he’s not alone and that he’s loved.   
He doesn’t need to tell him, but he shows it by kissing his knuckles, as they walk down the stairs and walk to the bus stop.  
He lets his body talk - now that the words that Nico needed to hear have been spoken - and doesn’t let go of his hand for a second, can’t stop finding a new spot to lay his lips upon.  
Any other day, any other night, he wouldn’t have it in him to ignore the people around them and shower Niccolò with the love he deserves… but tonight isn’t any other night. Screw anyone else.

He wonders for a moment if he should take Nico back home, but he’d rather not have to face his parents… Still, if it’s what Ni need right now…  
He tries to ask, but it seems that Niccolò doesn’t really feel like taking at the moment. He rephrases his question, so that he can answer with a nod if he wants to come over to his house or shake his head if he’d prefer not to.

Well, this is not how he pictured having Niccolò over.   
Still so confused about being allowed to be by his side, after the week they had.  
So exhausted and overwhelmed by his own feelings that he can barely move, and has Martino helping him get into some more comfortable clothes.

He wants to help him, to be able to do more than taking care of him in such inane tasks… but he doesn’t know how.  
Not yet.  
Maybe tomorrow.

*************

**Saturday, 15th December 2018, 1:15 A.M.**  
  
He can’t fall asleep. He can’t risk missing a single moment together with Niccolò, to waste it on something as useless as rest. It’s not out of fear that he might wake up alone, or that Niccolò didn’t really mean his “I think I am in love with you and that I have never felt for anyone what I feel for you”   
  
Martino knows he did.   
  
He’s done doubting or guessing what Nico’s heart is really yearning for, he won’t tell himself that ‘it’s too good to be true’ ever again. He won’t let the fear of what’s to come spoil the moment that he’s living now.   
  
He can’t sleep because he doesn’t want to. He wants to commit to his memory every little flutter of his boyfriend’s eyelids, every breath that he takes.   
Even taking his phone to update Gio and Fili about their happy ending feels like breaking the spell, like letting the whole world in when he wants to have Niccolò for himself, just for tonight.

*************

_I don’t wanna run, just overwhelm me._ (The Lightning Strike - Snow Patrol)

 **Saturday, 15th December 2018, 10:30 AM  
**  
For a second, nothing feels real, when you open your eyes.   
For a moment, you don’t quite know where you are and it’s like being in one of those dreams in which you get out of bed and everything seems fairly normal and then someone opens a door and it leads to your classroom, or to the school terrace and suddenly you don’t understand what is going on, because it doesn’t make sense and they go all “Of course this can lead wherever you want, Nico: it’s a dream after all” …

Okay, okay, don’t start hyperventilating. Don’t let the panic kick in, breath in slow and steady and take in your surroundings.  
What is real? Martino is, because not even in your most accurate fantasy you can really recreate the soft texture of his skin, his warmth, and the countless freckles on his skin.  
This must be his room, then.  
He brought you back here last night, remember? 

Now, falling into a pit of self-hatred and telling yourself that he doesn’t deserve having to put up with you, that you shouldn’t have sent that text, it’s easy, isn’t it?  
But you _had_ to. You _had_ to make sure that Martino knew without a doubt that your heart has always been his, that there hasn’t been a single instant in which you thought “oh, it was nothing more than a stupid crush, after all”   
It goes against your very instincts to flee, to leave before you can be left alone, but just like you had to send that message last night, now you _have_ to stay.

You _have_ to wait until Martino wakes up as well, and tell him how sorry you are for everything. How desperately you hope that you won’t screw this up and that he will not hate you in the end…

“Hey.”  



	15. Welcome

You wish he could stay over forever, because it doesn’t really feel like he belongs anywhere else but your bed. Or your sofa. Or between your arms.   
You don’t even think your mother would actually mind.. So why can’t he? 

_‘ Because he won’t study, when you’re around. And he needs to get this damn diploma to prove his parents that they can trust him.’_

That’s right. Besides, you’ll be going back to school tomorrow and you wouldn’t feel comfortable leaving him all alone in a house that’s not even his own.   
You’ve got no choice.

You’d rather avoid meeting his parents again, however. Mrs. Fares hasn’t really been warm and welcoming when you were first introduced to each other, much to both yours and Nico’s disappointment.   
You can tell yourself that you don’t really care, that their opinion is not going to bother you that much because all that matters is how Niccolò feels.  
Nobody, not even Mr. and Mrs. Fares, can now make you believe that what you two have isn’t real or that you ain’t good for him.

And yet, that’s not enough to put you at ease. 

Because it’s Nico you’re worried about, not yourself.  
You don’t want to make things awkward for him. You don’t want him to face the same rejection and disbelief you got from your dad.

Maybe another day, when he’s feeling better. His mood has improved a lot from yesterday, and you’d hate to see it crushed by his parents glacial attitude when it comes to you.  
He didn’t have to say much about it, but it’s clear that Niccolò thinks he hasn’t done enough to deserve their love and acceptance. It shows, in the way is constantly thanking you for the smallest things - like lending him some of your clothes, cooking him dinner, always double-checking what he feels or doesn’t feel like doing - the guilt he carries about being such a ‘problematic person’.   
Someone who can’t even take care of themselves at 19 years old. 

If walking away can shield Ni from that, then it’s what you’ll do. 

You can’t say no when he tells you that going home doesn’t scare him so much, if you’re there by his side... but you linger in front of his buzzer, unwilling to ring it and kiss him goodbye.

He must sense you’re about to leave, because he holds on tighter to your hand, refusing to let go.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” He whispers in your ears, biting at his lip and looking down at the pavement. Like he’s scared of sounding too needy. “I mean... It’s okay if you have to go. I...”

“Hey. I’m having the boys over at 8, so I’ve got time to spare. Don’t worry. And , by the way there’s no place I rather be than here... with you.” You grab his chin, like you did on Friday, so that he can look into your eyes and see that you mean what you’re saying.

He is used to people patronizing him, lying through their teeth because they don’t want to upset him but completely disregarding what he said as soon he turns his back. You’re not gonna be one of those.

“I don’t want to have you and your parents arguing over me, though. If having me over is gonna make things harder for you...” 

“Nonsense.” He shushes you, tapping a finger against your lips. “It was never about you Marti. It took them a week to realize that, but they got that. Now come with me, and let them make it up to you... okay?”

“Okay.”

                                            *************************

You weren’t prepared for this.   
For Anna to welcome you in with a tired smile, take your coat and ask you to sit down and have a talk.  
For her not to bat an eyelid when Niccolò leans on your shoulder, or when he puts an arm around your waist.   
For her to apologise straight away for not having been a good host last time - she was upset with her son, but she had been wrong to assume you should be held accountable for his behaviour - and for not driving you back from Milan. What kind of mother leaves a seventeen year old to fend for himself in a city he doesn’t know, after he spent a night wondering what was wrong with her son?

You weren’t prepared for Nico’s father to be even more talkative than his son on a good day, bombarding you with questions about you and your life and what are you’re planning to do in the future... and he actually applauds you for being brave enough to admit you haven’t got quite a clear picture about that, but that you’re working on it at your own pace, because you prefer to live in the moment and not let the fear of tomorrow might bring spoil what you were blessed with today. 

You weren’t prepared for him to be so oblivious,and you nearly choke on your tea when he asks about your relationship with his son.

 _“_ So, are you two dating now?” 

“No, dear, they just like to be very close and brush each other’s teeth.”

Oh damn.  
You forgot that being over fourty doesn’t necessarily mean you’re not tech-savvy enough to look someone up on Instagram.   
Now you can see why Ni doesn’t have social media and prefers to own an old mobile rather than a smartphone. She is probably the kind of mother who would send request for every platform he subscribed to...   
  
“That’s ridiculous. What are you waiting for?” And there’s something, in his voice, giving away that he _does_ know about them... He doesn’t want to assume they aren’t casual, maybe. Or that they have made it official.  
  
“He talks big but he never actually asked me out, for one. Started calling me his boyfriend, out of the blue, and we hadn’t even been out on a date.” You admit, smiling when you see Niccolò feigning a pout.  
  
“Niccolò! I raised you better than that!”   
  
                                          ***********************  
  
**From: Niccolò  
**   
Told you that my parents were going to love you, didn’t I?  
It simply took them a little longer than expected.  
Wish you were still here with me. I find it hard to sleep without you.  
**  
**From: **Martino**  
  
Me too. I miss you already <3  
  
**From:** **Niccolò**  
  
Miss you more <3 <3  
  
**From: Martino**  
  
Miss you the most <3 <3 <3 <3  
See you tomorrow?  
  
**From: Niccolò**  
  
Too tired. Maybe on Tuesday.  
  
**From: Martino**  
  
Take care. I’ll call to wake you up at ten, so don’t go to sleep too late, ok?  
  
**From: Niccolò**  
  
Or what ;) ?  
  
**From: Martino**  
  
Or I’ll send Giovanni, Elia and Luca to drag you into that bed and you really don’t want that. Trust me.  
  
**From: Niccolò**  
  
Luchino would never.  
  
**From: Martino**  
  
Wouldn’t he? For the right price?  
  
**From: Niccolò**  
  
Ok, ok. I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight :* !  
  
**From: Martino**  
  
<3


	16. Tie me down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Maritombola 2018, prompt "Frustratione"

Damn. Desperate times call for desperate measures, don't they? Martino has to be the responsible student who'd rather spend his night with the books rather than his boyfriend, but enough is enough. This has to work, or the frustration of having Martino always buttoned up and too tired to do anything more than cuddling will kill him for real.

"Ni?" There he is, fumbling in the dark even though he knows that he probably woke him up.

"Did I...?" He sounds so sorry, so apologetic for having disrupted his sleep that Niccolò HAS to walk up to Martino and reassure him that he's got nothing to worry about.

"I was waiting for you." Niccolò tells him, cupping his face between his hands and leaning up for a kiss.  
It's chaste and sweet, at first, but it soon takes a much heated and filthier turn when Marti's finger brush against his skin and find that he's not wearing any clothes.  
Teeth bite on his bottom lip, nails leave a rather pleasurable burn on his back and it feels like Martino can't get quite enough of him if the hunger in his kisses is anything to go by.  
Mission accomplished, uh?

"Ni..." He says, in a whisper that sounds like a prayer. A prayer that Niccolò has EVERY intention of answering. 

"Turn on the light." 

Martino is pretty sure he's got the most stupid look on his face at the moment, but come on... Put yourself in his shoes. He's got this fucking hot man right in front of him. Naked. Wearing just a black rope around his neck, red lipstick on that amazing mouth, and the faintest trace of eye-shadow.  
All he wanted to do tonight was crash down and sleep until noon... 

Not that he's complaining. Not at all.  
It just takes him a while to compute with what's happening here.  
When he does, he finds out that he's not that knackered after all. That there's no way he's gonna let Niccolò use that rope on him and do all the work.

No. Niccolò is going to sit there and look pretty while Martino worships every inch of his skin, paying his respects with a kiss. Or two. Or a thousand.  
Repaying him for the immense amount of trust he has in him by focusing exclusively on giving Niccolò the best night of his life.  
That exactly what he wanted, after all, isn't it?


	17. New Year's Blues

**_Marti_ : **_How are you feeling? Got any plans for tonight? Peccio might have found a party we could sneak in..._ __  
  
How are you feeling, Niccolò?  
  
Not good. Not at all, and it’s so stupid. You’re so stupid.  
You should be grateful.  You should be happy.  
You are now dating the most amazing and softest boy in the whole world - someone who can see past your shortcomings, despite being painfully aware of them.   
Still. This isn’t fair to him. You being unable to wake up on the last day of 2018 and not be crushed by everything you failed to accomplish.  
Getting your high school diploma before turning 19, keeping in touch with all your friends at Virgilio, having a clearer picture of what you want to do with your life... You could say that you got Martino, but the emotional heavy lifting in your relationship falls mainly on his shoulders. If the two of you ended up together is because of him, of his patience and understanding of your impossible personality. No thanks to you.  
You even failed to grasp that you don’t need to get drunk or high to have fun...   
  
It’s not even like you understand what’s your deal, when it comes to alcohol or weed... There’s a fine line between feeling all warm and fuzzy and starting to perceive your body as something that doesn’t belong to you that you cross too often and too easily.   
It usually starts with ‘oh! would you look at these clumsy hands, I wonder who they belong to, HAHA!’; ‘Let’s belt out the sappiest and shittiest song we know at the top of our lungs, because WHY NOT?’ and ends on a ‘I BET THEY HAVE BETTER BEERS IN BRUSSELS: LOOK AT ME BUYING THE NEXT FLIGHT FROM FIUMICINO’  
You might enjoy the numbness you get at first, but then it gets quite frightening and sends you into a spiral of self-loathing that reminds why you are better off sober.   
  
And yet, you always fail to resist and give in to the temptation of partying like any other teenager would.   
Martino might be right when he says that you can’t predict what will happen in the future, but you know yourself well enough to be sure that going out tonight is not a good idea.  
  
How can you do this to Martino, though?   
He shouldn’t have to look after you, instead of celebrating the start of a new year together with his friends.   
You’re about to type out a lie, and say you’d be more than happy to join in... But then you go for something different, because Martino doesn’t deserve being lied to either.   
  
‘ _Not so good. NYE blues and all that... I was thinking, maybe... Netflix and chill with my boyfriend. Start the year with a bang, you know_?’   
  
 **Marti:** _Sounds good_.  
  
 _‘Yeah?’_  
  
 **Marti:** _Better than hanging out with people desperate to get drunk and laid. I mean, I love them, but I’d rather spend the evening with you <3 _  
 _Especially if there’s gonna be banging involved ;)_  
  
 _‘Look who’s desperate to get laid, now?’_  
  
 **Marti:** _Oi,_ _have you seen my boyfriend? Can u blame me?_  
  
 _‘Have you seen mine <3? Not at all. Sorry to be such a drag, btw.’_  
  
 **Marti:** _You’re not forcing me to do anything that I don’t wanna do, Ni._ _Stop apologizing or I’m not gonna come._  
  
 _‘You always say that and then... This face shows up on my doorstep :3 ”_  
  
 **Marti:** _I’m not coming, that’s it._  
  
 _‘ :O ! >_< !! T_T... You’re breaking my heart, you know that?’   
_  
 **Marti:** _Okay, okay... I’ll be there around 11pm, okay? Going out for a movie with mom, now. Stop it with those weird ass emojis._  
  
 _‘Never è_é !!! I know that, deep down, you love them U_U’_  
  
 **Marti:** _You know what, maybe I do._  
 _See you later <3 _  
  
Now... We don’t want Marti to knock on your door and find you all smelly and clothed in the same pjs you haven’t taken off in three days, right?  
Go have a shower, tidy up your room and get ready for his arrival.  
Small steps. You can do it, Niccolò.   
  
Prove to yourself and to your boyfriend that you’re capable of self-care, that you don’t need to lean on someone else at all times: that’s the best way you can start 2019, isn’t it?  
  



End file.
